


Wild Garden

by rons_pigwidgeon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beltane, Community: hds_beltane, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, toe sucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-31
Updated: 2010-05-31
Packaged: 2019-11-13 01:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18022409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rons_pigwidgeon/pseuds/rons_pigwidgeon
Summary: The spell was supposed to make Draco’s garden more beautiful and abundant. Instead, the plants have gone insane and are trying to break into the house. Will he be able to find a solution in time to host a Beltane festival?





	Wild Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for HDS_Beltane 2010
> 
> A huge THANK YOU to my super-quick beta, [profile] agooism.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I wrote this story almost a decade ago and haven't re-read it before posting. If I missed important tags, please let me know. Thanks!

Harry starred glassy-eyed into his coffee. Alcohol was not his friend, especially not after nights of shooting Flamethrowers with Ron and Seamus. And yet, he continued to drink. Clearly Snape had been right about his mental abilities, or lack thereof. He squeezed his eyes shut against the monster headache pounding through his frontal lobe and willed the next-door neighbor’s dog to stop barking quite so incessantly.   
  
“Half an hour,” he muttered, reminding himself that his stockboy, Jamie, would be in at half past. Harry was planning on sending him right back out again for a hangover cure from the Apothecary down the street. With this sort of headache, he didn’t even care that it probably wasn’t proper employer/employee relations to have your subordinate buying hangover cures for you. It probably also wasn’t proper employer/employee relations to let said subordinate blow you in the stock room on occasion either, but Harry’s moral compass had been a bit fuzzy as of late, so he really didn’t care.   
  
Just as he was convincing himself that his stomach was settled enough to try a scone, the bell above the shop door rang, and someone entered the shop. Who exactly the person was, Harry couldn’t tell at first, as the person’s entire upper half was obscured by a giant cardboard box. Had the person never heard of shrinking charms before? Harry shoved the thought aside. “Morning, how can I help you?” The greeting wasn’t particularly enthusiastic, but given his current physical state, it was the best he could manage.   
  
“Good morning! Sorry for popping in so early.” The box was thrust onto Harry’s counter, narrowly missing Harry’s tea, and the person was revealed to be a pleasant-looking bloke a few years younger than Harry. “I’ve got a load of books I thought you might be interested in. My great aunt died recently, and I inherited her house and her massive library. I don’t do much reading myself, but especially not Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not much needed now, thanks to you.” He flashed Harry a bright grin. “Anyway, I thought I’d bring them over on my way to work and see if you wanted to have a look at them.”  
  
Harry raised an eyebrow and peered into the box. He could smell the mildew and moth-repellant charms immediately. Most of them were leather-bound and clearly quite old. He’d have to sort through them, of course, but he could imagine getting a nice price for them. “How much are you wanting for them?”   
  
“I hadn’t thought of a price. You’re the expert on these things, right? I wouldn’t know what would be fair.”   
  
Harry considered the matter. The bloke looked honest enough and given how many books looked to be in the box… “How about fifty Galleons for the lot?”  
  
The man’s eyes widened. “Fifty Galleons? Are you sure? That’s a lot of money…”  
  
“There are a lot of very old, probably valuable books here.”  
  
“I… all right. Fifty Galleons.” The man beamed. Harry found himself smiling back, liking the dimples that appeared at the upturn of the man’s mouth. He turned from the other man and wrote up a quick receipt; he then counted fifty gold Galleons from the register and handed the money over.   
  
“Thank you,” the man said, shaking Harry’s hand before taking the gold and tucking it away in his money pouch.   
  
“No, thank  _you_. Can I help you with anything else?” The headache was starting to fade a bit under the man’s beaming smile, and he was feeling a bit more interested in customer service.   
  
“Oh, no, I’ve got to run to work. Thank you, though. I might have more to bring you sometime this week, depending on how much time I get to work at the house. Will that be all right?”  
  
“That would be just fine.”  
  
“Thanks. Have a nice day,” he chirped, shaking Harry’s hand again before heading out. Harry mimicked his goodbye and watched his arse on the way out. It was rather nice.   
  
Once the bell jingled and he was alone again, he poked his head inside the box. There was going to be quite a lot of sorting for him to do. He sighed. The headache was coming back again. He checked the large clock stuck to the opposite wall, crammed between two tall bookcases. Another fifteen minutes.  _Well, might as well get to it,_ he thought. He levitated the heavy box to the floor and began to pick through it.  
  


-

  
  
Draco was beginning to get a headache. This was the fifth florist he had visited, and  _none_  of the flowers were good enough for the Beltane rights. “What part of ‘in bud’ isn’t translating here? This is a Beltane celebration! It’s a celebration of fertility and new growth. How are these puny, fully bloomed, already-starting-to-wilt flowers expected to convey those sentiments, exactly?” Disgusted, he threw down the sprig of bluebells he’d been examining. “Unless you can convince me otherwise in the next few minutes, I will be turning elsewhere for my floral needs.”   
  
The shop keeper scrambled to find a better example of what Draco was looking for, barking orders to three little shop girls who all looked terrified and barely out of Hogwarts. “What about these, sir?” The flowers they produced were only slightly better, but still not on par with what Draco was looking for.  
  
He took a yellow tulip from one of the girls and held it at eye level for closer scrutiny. It was a very lovely blossom, but there were faint signs of browning at the tips of the leaves. To an untrained eye, the browning would be invisible, but Draco knew better. This celebration was incredibly important to him, his first effort to bring back the old traditions and re-introduce them to the new generation, half of whom were Muggle-born and were unfamiliar with their own heritage. He wanted every aspect of the celebration to exude life and vitality and the promise of new beginnings. Wilting flowers would not do.   
  
“No, I don’t think so. Thank you for your time, but I really must be going now.” He handed the tulip back to the shop girl, gave the sputtering florist a frosted smile, and walked out the door. It didn’t do to dwell in shops in which one had no intention of shopping.   
  
He Disapparated home and called a house-elf to bring him a stiff drink and a headache potion. What was he to do now? That was the last florist within a hundred miles, and he had wanted the flora used for the festival to be locally grown. Standing at the Conservatory doors, Draco looked glumly out into Mother’s rose garden. A stray peacock passed the doorway. The house-elf popped in with a finger of Goblin-made brandy and popped back out again. He swirled the contents of the glass around and took a sniff, hoping the aroma would help him think. He took a swallow and swished it around his mouth. He stared out into the garden. It was a pleasant day out, peaceful, and Draco wondered at how pleasant a simple thing like a nice day in his mother’s garden could be. He considered the garden more seriously for a moment. He smiled. He had an idea.  
  


-

  
  
Draco quickly came to the unfortunate conclusion that, though his mother’s flowers were perfect in every way, there would not be nearly enough of them if they were to continue to grow at the rate they were. Something would need to be done to increase their vitality. And therein lay the problem; he knew that his mother had compiled a grimoire* that contained all of her gardening spells. There was bound to be at least one spell, if not a dozen, on increasing the bounty of the flower beds. Unfortunately, she was off with Father on a tour of the Pacific Islands for six months, and Draco had not a clue where she kept the book. He had three house-elves on a hunt for it, but they had been searching for two days and nothing had yet come up.   
  
He considered owling her, but he didn’t want to appear less than self-sufficient. This was the first big event he was planning by himself and asking for help would only make him appear weak.  
  
“Severus?” he called through the Floo, three days into the search. There would be no appearance of weakness in asking the help of his former mentor and lover. At least, that was what he told himself.  
  
Severus appeared in front of the fire, wearing filthy-looking jeans (of all things!) and a dirty, black Oxford with the sleeves rolled up. There were smudges of soil on his hands and face; he looked like he’d been dragged through a thistle field.  
  
“What in Merlin’s name has happened to you?! You’re filthy dirty!” Draco exclaimed, horrified.  
  
Severus glared disdainfully and adjusted the rolls of his sleeves. “Not that it is of any consequence to you, but I have been out in the garden, tending to my herbs. What do you need? I’m rather busy, obviously.”  
  
Draco gave his body one more once-over, vaguely remembering what it looked like clean and without the hindrance of clothing. “Gardening advice, actually. I’m having a bit of trouble finding Mother’s gardening grimoire. Would you happen to know where it is?”  
  
“For what purpose could you possibly need your mother’s gardening book? You’ve never shown an interest in herbology.”  
  
“No, but I do have an interest in using Mother’s flowers for the Beltane festival. There won’t be enough of them at the rate they’re growing now, so I want to work a few virility spells to see if I can increase their output before the festival. Do you know where it is? I’ve had the house-elves searching for three days now, and nothing’s come up. I thought maybe you’d borrowed it, and it had got lost.” He looked around the room at the piles of books set about and thought the idea not an unlikely one.  
  
“Considering that I have compiled my own grimoire on the subject, I would have no use for your mother’s. Is there a reason you haven’t simply asked her?”  
  
“She’s in the South Pacific with Father. I wouldn’t want to bother them with something so trivial.”  
  
“And yet you find no qualms in doing so to me.” Severus crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
“I… I didn’t think you would mind. You didn’t use to mind when I bothered you about trivial things…” Draco kept his eyes trained on the carpet. He knew he was walking a fine-line, bringing up their former relationship when Severus had made it very clear that the subject was off-limits, but he had been thinking more and more of their time together lately. And wanting to get that time back again.  
  
“That was a very different time.” The warning in his voice told Draco to drop the subject.   
  
Too bad he’d never been very good at listening to Severus’ instructions. “Are you going to come to the Beltane celebration?”  
  
“I have not decided yet. I dislike sleeping in tents.”  
  
“Oh. I thought maybe you could sleep in my tent. With me.” His eyes flickered up to the stony face of his former lover and knew his attempt had been in vain.  
  
“I do not think that would be a very good idea, Draco.”  
  
“All right. But you will come? You can sleep in the Manor if you don’t want to sleep in a tent. I’d really like you to be there.”   
  
Severus’ expression softened, but only slightly. “We shall see.”  
  
“Thank you. Have a good afternoon.” Severus nodded, and Draco took his leave. He sat still on the hearthrug for several minutes, deep in thought. He was only brought back to reality by an owl fluttering in his face, brandishing a letter from the bakery with more questions about the Beltane Cake. He sighed and took the missive, directing the owl to the kitchens for a treat, and getting up to send a reply.  
  


-

  
  
“Master Draco?” Draco was practically buried in invitations for the Beltane celebration when the little voice squeaked his name. He looked down into the wide face of Nelny, the head garden elf.  
  
“Yes, Nelny? Is there something the matter?”  
  
“No, Master. Nelny is finding this in the garden shed, Master.” Nelny slid a pink, leather-bound book onto the desk. It was covered in intricate floral embroidery and looked well-used. Draco recognized it immediately.   
  
“Mother’s grimoire! You found it. Excellent work, Nelny. Thank you very much.” He picked the book up and flipped through the pages, extremely pleased to be holding it. He wouldn’t have to worry about the flowers anymore. He looked back down at Nelny. “You have done very well, Nelny. I think I might be able to persuade Father to allow you to marry that elf of Pansy’s, if you still want her.”  
  
Nelny looked as though all his Christmases had come at once. “Oh, Nelny does, Master! Nelny does! Thank you, Master!”   
  
“You are very welcome, Nelny. You may go back to your regular work now. And let the others know that they may end their searches.” The elf disappeared with a POP!, and Draco was alone with the grimoire. He began to flip through it impatiently, wanting to get the charms in place as quickly as possible. There were spells to enhance the fertilizer, remove weeds from whole beds at a time, enrich the pigments of the plants, dig perfect holes for bushes and trees; there were preservation charms for bulbs and charms to turn the soil. He was half-way through the book before he came across the spell he needed.   
  
It was later than he thought when he stepped out onto the veranda. Night had fallen and the stars were bright in the sky. He took a moment to enjoy the peace of his home, so isolated from the outside world and no longer full of evil men and magic. The only noise was that of the insects, a lovely hum that filled him with happiness. He loved this time of the year, the new beginning it provided, and he was about to make everything that much more beautiful. He lifted his wand and spoke the spell, following the wand movements indicated in his mother’s neat, precise hand. A jet of deep rose pink erupted from his wand and spread out over the foliage, blanketing it in light for an instant before it dissipated. Draco smiled to himself and took another moment to enjoy the peace, before slipping back into the house. According to the book, the spell’s magic would begin its work by morning.   
  
He set aside the invitations, deciding he had finished enough of them for one evening, and went up to bed.   
  


-

  
  
Draco awoke to a house-elf whispering his name. Lore was hopping from foot to foot at the side of his bed, tugging on an ear and looking very nervous. This did not bode well. “What is it?”  
  
“There is a problem in the garden, Master Draco. The flowers is growing very big. They is trying to get in the house.”  
  
For a moment, Draco told himself that the elf was being over-dramatic, that this was not actually the case, that his spell had worked, and he had simply not told them what to expect. But then another elf popped into the room, wringing its hands and biting its lip.   
  
“Master Draco, the vines is trying to break through the Conservatory door. Milly and Taddy is fighting them off, but they is not winning by much.”  
  
“The plants are trying to get into the house? How is that possible?” He muttered to himself, shoving the blankets off and rising from bed. Lore held out his dressing gown, having spelled it from the wardrobe the instant Draco began to move, and he pulled it on. “All right, show me.” The elf took his hand and popped them down to the Conservatory. Draco had to grab onto the nearest chair to collect himself; the house-elf version of Apparition always left him with a vaguely nauseous feeling.   
  
Once he was composed, he looked around the large, glass-walled room and found two of his elves fighting a furious battle with the creeping roses just outside the closed Conservatory doors. Draco stared at the scene, stunned. The roses were thrashing about violently, movements very reminiscent of the Womping Willow set in the back of the garden that guarded the Malfoy Mausoleum. The house-elves were covered in deep scratches that dripped with blood, their hands shaking as they threw out spell after spell. Nothing they cast seemed to have any effect.   
  
Draco reached for his wand, only to remember that he’d left it on his night stand. “Lore, get my wand from the night stand and Mother’s gardening grimoire from the study.” The elf popped away, only to return a moment later with both items. Draco took both and turned to the page that held the spell he’d used. He read through the spell’s description, written in his mother’s hand, once more, baffled. “ _Bacchare_  is used to improve the beauty and abundance of the blossoms on a plant. Cast the spell on plants that are wilting or are not producing as many blossoms as are desired.” Surely, his mother would not have included the spell if she had not already used it and understood its effects.   
  
Just at that moment, a vine burst through one of the lower panes of the glass door and began to creep its way into the house. The elves went into a panic, jumping and beating at it with the closest blunt object they could find in an attempt to kill it. Draco began to panic himself and threw a stunning spell at the vine on instinct. It did not manage to stop the vine’s movements entirely, but it did manage to make the vine sluggish. The thrashing was a weak imitation of what it had been.   
  
Draco took a calming breath. Well, at least his spell had had some effect. He did not have time to contemplate why it was that his spells had been effective when his house-elves’ had not. He quickly made his way through to the kitchen and exited into the garden through the kitchen door. He did not wish to get close enough to the plants so that they might attack him, as they did the elves, but he needed a direct shot if he was to slow the rest of the plants down. He began to fire off stunning spells at every thrashing vine and bush he encountered, and soon the garden better resembled the movements of an absinth orgy than a drunken concert. He relaxed a little, relieved that the immediate danger had been dealt with. But now came the more difficult part: finding out what had gone so monumentally wrong.   
  
He walked back into the house and took a seat on one of the Conservatory loungers. “Milly, Taddy, send the plants back outside and mend the glass panes. Lore, let the kitchen elves know that I will be breakfasting here today, rather than in the Breakfast Room.”   
  
The elves did as directed, and Draco was able to focus on the grimoire. He read it cover-to-cover, but could find no reason why the spell could have gone so awry. He stared out at the plants, watching them writhe in a feigned imitation of ecstasy. How long would the stunning spells last before the vines began to get violent again? How was he going to reverse this mishap? He tried every form of  _Finite Incantatum_ he knew, but none of them had an effect. Defeated, he slumped back onto the lounger. He was going to need help.  
  


-

  
  
Collecting the owl post from the back ledge was always a hazard. The step underneath the window was old and rickety, and Harry had toppled off of it on many a groggy morning. He tried to be quick about it, but the step was being uncooperative, and he nearly fell off twice. He finally managed it and gathered the letters that had been dropped by the impatient owls, who were more interested in the all-you-could-eat treat buffet than assuring that his letters arrived in one piece. Harry had learned rather quickly that owls in a book shop caused more havoc than convenience to him, his customers, and his books. One too many afternoons spelling owl shit off his book displays prompted him to build the perch on the back window. Now, owls dropped their letters in the slot below the perch, feasted on the bottomless bowl of treats provided them, and left without ever entering the shop.   
  
He brought the letters out to the front and propped himself up on his stool to look through them. There was an owl from Ron, probably full of funny anecdotes about Hugo and complaints of Hermione’s hormonal ups and downs. As much as he loved Ron and Hermione, Harry was less than interested in hearing about domestic life. Wedded bliss tended to depress him, as he was unattached himself and, up to the present, had found little in the way of enticement towards the sort of loving commitment they were lucky enough to share. He set it aside to be skimmed later. Next were three bills, none of which he was interested in seeing, let alone paying. At the bottom of the pile lay an elegant envelope smelling of wildflowers, none that he could name, but all ones that made him sneeze. He held a hand over his nose and opened the letter, only to be showered with fresh blooms. Harry stared at the envelope for several seconds in stunned horror. He hadn’t been accosted by a letter in such an appallingly feminine manner since he was at Hogwarts. He held the envelope at arm’s length and pulled out the stiff rectangle of parchment.  
  


> ## The Committee for Cultural Revitalization cordially invites you to join us in celebration of Beltane. The festivities are set to begin at dawn with the gathering preparation of the Beltane fire and erection of the Maypole. All celebrants are encouraged to camp on the property and are welcome to begin setting up camp as early as April 24, 2010.  
>    
>  Celebrations will extend from dawn of May 1 – dawn of May 2  
>    
>  The Malfoy Estate, Wiltshire, United Kingdom  
>    
>    
>    
> 
> 
> ###    
>    
>  Please contact Draco Malfoy at Malfoy Manor, Floo address Malfoy Foyer, for answers to any questions you might have about this event.  
>    
>  The Committee for Cultural Revitalization looks forward to seeing you at Beltane!  
>    
>    
>    
> 

  
  
An invitation to a Beltane celebration? Harry turned the card over and examined the Maypole, complete with dancers and a flower border that decorated the back. It was a bit garish, but if Malfoy was coordinating the event, that wasn’t a surprise. Harry had never heard of the Committee for Cultural Revitalization, but he was curious to know more about the Old Ways. He’d slept through those lectures in History of Magic, and Hermione hadn’t let him borrow her notes. He wondered if Ron and Hermione would be getting an invitation as well.   
  


-

  
  
Draco was at the end of his patience. He had torn the entire library apart and still nothing had been found to quell the savage back garden. It had been a week now, and he had been forced to schedule three Curse Breakers to come to the Manor out of sheer desperation. Four days ago, a change had begun to happen in the plants’ behavior. The vines were still writhing slowly towards the house and making small attempts to break in, but now they were also exuding a faint, pink mist that had aphrodisiac properties. So far, the mist had little effect on Draco, but every peacock on the grounds was nesting. The fog had permeated the kitchen and the Conservatory and had begun to wreak havoc on the house elves, causing them to go into fits of lust. Nearly half of his female elves had become pregnant in the last four days. Mother was not going to be pleased.   
  
On top of all of these problems was piled the preparations for the Beltane festival. He had been so worried about making certain that all of the preparations were perfect before, but now his main concern was that his garden didn’t climb over the back hedge and begin attacking the guests. They were due in less than three weeks, and if he didn’t want a massive, embarrassing orgy on his hands, something had to be done as soon as possible.   
  
“I apologize, Mr. Malfoy, but I confess I haven’t the slightest idea where to begin. I’ve never seen plants behave this way before. And you say that you performed a simple vitality spell on them?” Arnold Delfrie was heralded as one of the top Curse Breakers in the field of herbological Dark Magic, which was the only reason Draco was permitting him into the house. He smelled of fried fish and had the appalling habit of biting his nails while deep in thought.   
  
“Yes, from my mother’s grimoire. I was led to believe that all of the spells she collected were innocuous and meant to improve the health and beauty of the garden. I can’t understand what could have gone wrong.”   
  
“May I see this book?” He was crouched next to the vine of a climbing rose bush that was slowly wrapping itself around his ankle. Draco was hesitant to let him touch the book, worried that he would not be careful enough with it, or would somehow get his greasy fish fingerprints on the pages. Mother would not respond well to grease on her personal possessions. “It is important that I see the spell, Mr. Malfoy. If I know what the spell is that you performed, I will better be able to understand and dismantle the magic.” He pushed the seeking vine from his ankle and stood to face Draco.  
  
Draco could see the logic in his argument and reluctantly produced the book from inside his robes. “If you insist, but be careful with it. This book is more valuable to me than your expertise.” He turned to the page he had used and handed the book over.  
  
Delfrie lifted the book to within an inch of his face and peered at the words. His brows furrowed, creating a wrinkled V pointing down the bridge of his nose. “ _Bacchare_? I’ve never heard of this spell before. Do you happen to know what the spell’s origin is?”  
  
“No. My mother holds her sources close.”  
  
Delfrie nodded and began muttering to himself. He held the book to his nose and sniffed. Draco bristled and fought himself not to tear it from the man’s grubby hands. Delfrie lowered the book and performed a series of spells on the nearest vine, speaking so low that Draco couldn’t hear him. One of them must have been a Dark Magic detection spell because Draco recognized the thick, black smoke that lifted from the vine and formed a dark cloud above the flora for a minute before dissipating. Delfrie turned and gave Draco a very serious look. “I dislike being lied to, Mr. Malfoy. I cannot help those who deceive me. What manner of Dark Magic did you perform on these plants?”  
  
Draco didn’t know whether to be infuriated or horrified. He decided to go with cold instead and gave the man a glacial stare. “I will not be accused of treachery in my own home. If you cannot respect what I tell you, then you may leave, and I will take my business elsewhere.” He clicked his fingers and Lore popped into existence at his elbow. “Lore, see this gentleman out. His services are no longer needed.” He turned his back to the man and strode swiftly back into the house, shutting the Conservatory door firmly behind him.  
  


-

  
  
“You need to find yourself a boyfriend and stop shagging that boy you have working for you, Harry. It isn’t healthy,” Hermione lectured, eyes narrowing at him over the pile of books in her arms. Harry raised a disinterested eyebrow.  
  
“What’s wrong with Jamie? He’s out of Hogwarts, isn’t he?”  
  
“You’re thirty years old.”  
  
“I’m quite aware of that, Hermione, but thank you for reminding me.” He went back to studying his accounts, spread out across the counter in a mess of papers that only he saw the order of. He knew Hermione was going to say something about his lack of organization as soon as she was less distracted by the new order that had arrived that morning.  
  
“I thought you wanted a relationship, something steady like Ron and I have.” She paused, pulling a book out of the stack on the table in front of her and looking at it quizzically. “ _101 Ways to Handle His Wand_? What does this have to do with Dark Arts Defense?”   
  
Harry turned pink and quickly  _Accio’d_  the book and hid it under the counter. “That’s personal. And what Ron and you have is a bloody miracle. By rights you should be killing each other, you realize, not producing an army of miniature geniuses.” He looked pointedly at her rounded belly, not large enough yet to be obvious under her robes, but clearly visible to those who knew her.   
  
“Yes, well, miracle or not, how do you expect to find anyone if your only romantic interaction is with your shop boy in the back room? And what if the papers were to find out, Harry? Rita Skeeter  _lives_  for that sort of scandal.”  
  
“I wouldn’t exactly classify what Jamie and I do in the back a ‘romantic interaction’. If Rita wants to stick her pointy nose into this, then I’ll just have to let the Ministry know about her beetle trick, won’t I?”  
  
“You know what I’m trying to say, Harry. You need to get out there more. You’ll never find anyone putting about the book shop all day.”  
  
“I meet men every day in this shop, I’ll have you know. Just the other week a very nice-looking bloke popped in and sold me a box full of his great aunt’s Defense books.”  
  
“Did you get his Floo address?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“His name?”  
  
Harry looked shiftily down at his paperwork. “No.”  
  
Hermione let out a tremendous sigh and plunked her pile of books right on top of his account ledger. “This is exactly what I’m talking about, Harry. So attractive men come into the shop. How does that help your situation if you don’t bother to chat them up?”  
  
Harry pushed a persistent strand of hair from his face and looked up at her, half-exasperated and half-pathetic. “I don’t know, Hermione. I just… I haven’t really wanted to bother with it all lately.”  
  
Hermione was giving him one of those considering looks that meant he wasn’t going to like the outcome of her consideration. He shifted uneasily in his chair and started to organize her book choices. “Do me a favor. The next man who walks in here who is even remotely attractive and looks vaguely single and homosexual, I want you to get his name and his Floo address.” Harry went to protest, but Hermione held up a hand to halt him. “I didn’t say you have to  _use_  that information. I just want you to put forth the effort to  _get_  the information. Just as a test.”  
  
Harry paused, unsure how to counter the request. It wouldn’t hurt just to get a bloke’s information, even if he had no intention of using it, would it? Anything to appease a pregnant Hermione. He’d learned that lesson early on while she was pregnant with Hugo. “All right. The next available, possibly interested bloke who comes in.”  
  
“Okay.” They both looked at the door as if willing someone to walk in. Predictably, no one did. Hermione rolled her eyes and moved her pile of books out of his way. “I’ll be looking in the back.”  
  
“You do that.” He turned back to his accounts and began calculating again. They spent a pleasant half-hour quietly, and still no one came in. By the time Hermione left, after she’d paid the grossly discounted price for her books and they’d split a Panini from the Italian deli across the street, the only customers to enter the shop were two elderly women, a married man with his two sons, and Jamie, in for his afternoon shift.   
  
Opportunity did not come knocking, as it were, until nearly closing. Harry was re-shelving some books on the back wall, thinking about throwing hints at Jamie that it might be worth his while to stay a bit later than closing, when the bell above the door dinged. He turned to look at the new person on instinct and nearly fell over from his crouched position in shock. Severus Snape was standing in the doorway, shaking water droplets from his hair and cloak and looking around curiously at the contents of the shop. Harry took a moment to look him over. It had been several months since he had last seen the man. In the meantime, Snape had cut his hair much shorter than Harry had ever seen it, and switched to a more casual, almost-Muggle style of dress. Harry stood and stepped around a low table piled high with book ends and leather-bound journals. “Hello, didn’t expect to see you in here.”  
  
Snape faltered a fraction in his movements, eyes scanning over Harry. “The sentiment is mutual. Good evening.”  
  
“Hi.” Harry held out his hand for Snape to shake and grinned when he took it. He was certain that Hermione had not had Snape in mind when she’d told him to chat up a customer, but very little in Harry’s life was what was expected, and so he went with it. “Is there anything I can do for you?”  
  
“I was merely curious. I haven’t seen this shop before, but I’ve heard rumors of the quality of the selection, and I thought I’d step in to look around. I take it you are a shop assistant?” The tightness of Snape’s lips told Harry that he doubted Harry was capable of much more.  
  
“No, not exactly.”  
  
“Then what are you doing here? I can’t imagine you’ve an interest in reading.”  
  
Harry snorted and scratched the back of his head, messing his hair up even more than it already had been. “I do quite a bit more reading now than I used to, yes. I own the shop.”  
  
“I find that incredibly difficult to believe.”  
  
Harry sighed. Snape wasn’t making it easy for Harry to warm up to him, was he? “Well, believe it. We specialize in Defense Against the Dark Arts materials.”  
  
“Indeed? I never would have believed you interested in books.”  
  
“Yeah, well, I never would have believed a lot of what’s happened in my life. Want a tour?”  
  
“No, that’s quite all right. I’d rather look for myself.”  
  
“Okay. Need anything, I’ll be in the back.” Snape nodded and Harry moved back towards the back wall and the stack of books he needed to re-shelve, content to let this one go as it was rather obvious that Snape wasn’t interested in being chatted up. But something made him turn back and pause to consider his customer once more. Maybe it was the shorter, swept-fringe haircut he was sporting, or maybe the close-fitting robes that left little doubt in Harry’s mind that Snape was still very fit underneath them. Harry couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was that changed his mind, but he found himself opening his mouth before he knew what he was saying. “You wouldn’t be interested in having dinner with me tonight, would you?”  
  
Snape faltered for the second time that night and stared at Harry as though he were an alien creature. “I’m sorry?”  
  
Harry grinned and stepped closer, enjoying disconcerting his austere former professor. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” By the time he’d finished the question, he was practically in Snape’s personal space, and was struck by the exotic, faintly Asian scent that surrounded him.   
  
“Why would you possibly want to have dinner with me?” Snape asked, voice dripping with cynicism.   
  
“I think you’re fit?” Harry would not have been surprised if he was struck down by a flash of green light, given the severity of the look Snape was giving him.  
  
“I find that highly unlikely.”  
  
“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t try, though.” He shrugged and turned to walk away. At least he could tell Hermione he tried, even if she would never believe Snape had been his target. Neither man spoke to the other for the next half an hour, in which time Harry re-shelved books and straightened shelves in preparation for closing while Snape wandered the shop, looking over the selection.   
  
Harry was about to tell Snape it was closing time when the man walked up to the counter with two books and a stiff expression that made him look constipated. “Just the two, then?” Harry asked, flicking his wand at the register to ring the purchase up.   
  
Snape set three Galleons on the counter. “There is a Chinese restaurant at the end of the block that I have been considering trying. I would not object to your joining me.”  
  
Harry froze, momentarily stunned. Was Snape really saying what Harry was hearing? “I… Yeah, that’d be nice. Can you wait a few minutes while I close up and send Jamie on his way?” Snape nodded in agreement and stood at the door while Harry made preparations to close. Harry had to resist the urge to grin like a fool the whole time.   
  


-

  
  
The next two men were of little more help than Delfrie, and Draco found himself desperate very quickly. And as they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. The Lily and the Lion was purported to be the definitive bookshop for Defense Against the Dark Arts literature, and Draco did not doubt the claim. With Potter in charge, he doubted the shop held much else but Defense and Quidditch books. Nevertheless, if he was to find the type of information he needed on his own, he was going to have to speak to Potter.   
  
The shop was plain to look at, with a wooden sign hanging above the door of a lion embracing a lily. Draco rolled his eyes at the symbolism and stepped into the shop. At the ding of the bell, a young man appeared from behind a free-standing shelf and smiled at him. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”  
  
“I’m looking for a Defense book on garden curses. Do you have anything like that?” The boy smiled and indicated a row of shelves towards the front with his wand. Several books pushed themselves in front of their neighbors and Draco walked over to examine them. They were all of a common sort and ones that he had already looked through in his own library. He turned to speak to the boy again and was confronted with Potter, standing a few feet away and looking him up and down.   
  
“Potter, just who I was going to ask to speak to. These books are very basic. I’m looking for something that deals with rarer curses. Do you have anything?”  
  
“Hello to you, too, Malfoy. What sorts of curses are you looking for?”  
  
Draco ignored his sarcastic greeting. “I’m actually not entirely certain. I have a bit of a garden problem that I’m trying to sort out.”  
  
“What sort of garden problem?”  
  
Draco hesitated. Did he want to admit the nature of his problem to Potter? Potter would only laugh at him, after all. Unfortunately, he had little room to worry about things like dignity at the moment. He absolutely had to stop the curse immediately. “I performed what I thought was a fertility spell on my mother’s garden, hoping to increase their flower productivity so that I could use the flowers for the Beltane celebration. Unfortunately, the spell didn’t work the way I thought it would. My plants have now taken on a mind of their own and are attempting to break into the house, as well as exuding a mist that seems to be some sort of aphrodisiac. I have had three Curse Breakers in to look at the plants, and none of them was able to find a solution.”  
  
“What was the spell?”  
  
Draco reluctantly took the grimoire from inside his robes and thumbed to the page the spell was on before handing it to Potter. If the man was a book dealer, he could be trusted not to ruin one. Potter took the book and examined the page thoroughly, forehead creased in concentration. “This is hand-written and stinks of Dark Magic. What sort of book is this?”  
  
“It’s my mother’s gardening grimoire, and it most certainly does not smell of Dark Magic. It smells of flowers.”  
  
“I thought your mother didn’t practice Dark Magic anymore. She promised me she wouldn’t.” Potter gave him a sharp look over the top of the book, green eyes flashing.  
  
“She doesn’t, I can assure you.”  
  
“This book stinks of Dark Magic. I don’t care what you say about it smelling of flowers.”  
  
Draco glared, but it had little effect on Potter, who was used to being on the receiving end of such glares. “I’ve never heard of this spell before. Let me look…” Potter momentarily shut off his awareness of Draco and began moving amongst the shelves, lifting out books and shuffling through them before replacing them. Draco took the time to appraise Potter’s appearance. The only resemblance he still maintained from boyhood was the messy black hair. He was taller, though still not as tall as Draco, and he had filled out so that he no longer looked like a half-starved rodent. His posture could still use work, and his clothing showed signs of having not been de-wrinkled before Potter put them on. Disregarding those short-comings, he was generally very pleasing to look at and Draco found his eyes following the well-shaped bum hidden beneath ill-fitted trousers.  
  
By the time Potter returned to him with his mother’s book, Draco was beginning to contemplate asking if he wanted to share a tent for Beltane (assuming Draco could sort out the garden in time to  _host_ Beltane). “I have a few ideas based on what you said the problem was. Come over to the counter and we’ll talk about it.”  
  


-

  
  
By the time Harry ushered Malfoy out the door, he’d armed the blond with several spells to try and a promise to stop by the Manor after closing the next evening. Harry wasn’t really looking forward to seeing the house again and all the memories that accompanied it, but the desperation in Draco’s eyes had swayed him to agree to both the visit and to attending the Beltane celebration. Perhaps he and Severus could go together. The few outings they’d been on had gone well, and Harry was anticipating seeing the inside of the other man’s bedroom (and clothing) very soon.   
  
_Tonight would be a good time,_ he thought, fiddling with a display of quills on the counter. Jamie walked passed with a stack of new journals and smiled that sweet smile that usually meant he wouldn’t object to being bent over in the back. Harry resisted the urge to suggest it, knowing that Severus would never go to bed with him if he was still shagging his shopboy. He smiled back and pulled the book he was reading out from beneath the counter.   
  
Severus dropped in an hour later with Chinese, and they ate quietly. “Malfoy came in this morning,” Harry said, gauging Severus’ response from beneath his fringe.   
  
“Indeed? What could he possibly need from you?”  
  
“He’s having trouble with his garden. Did a spell that turned everything wild, and now the plants are trying to break in.”  
  
Severus gave a derisive snort and focused on his noodles. “How very typical of him. Would you care to further explain the situation? ‘Turned everything wild’ is not a particularly descriptive explanation.”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes at Severus’ admonition. “He did a spell on the garden, meaning to get the plants to make more flowers, and it went wonky. The plants are all crazy and apparently there’s a mist that’s caused all the house-elves to shag like rabbits. He’s had three Curse Breakers in with no luck.”  
  
“Oh, the house-elves are shagging? Narcissa won’t like that at all.” His smirk was positively evil. Harry tried to resist being aroused by it. He failed.  
  
“I’m supposed to go over and see the damage tomorrow night after closing. Do you want to come with me?”  
  
“I would prefer not to visit the Manor ever again, thank you,” he snapped.  
  
Harry was taken aback by the severity of his statement. He himself didn’t have the best memories of Malfoy Manor, but he could put that aside to help someone in need. Surely Severus could as well, given how close he and Malfoy were while Harry and Malfoy were in school. Harry shifted uncomfortably on his stool. “Does that mean you won’t be coming to Malfoy’s Beltane festival with me, either? It’s in a few weeks and I thought we could go together…”   
  
Severus paused, a glint in his eyes telling Harry that he had said something that jolted the other man. “I was not aware that you were intending on going to the Beltane festival.”  
  
“I wasn’t really sure about it until this afternoon, but Malfoy was so insistent that I come, and I really don’t know anything about the Old Ways. Hermione thinks it’ll be a nice way to ‘get back to my magical roots’.” He shrugged and took a bite of food.  
  
Severus slowly shuffled the Chow Mein noodles around his plate while he thought, his neutral expression telling Harry nothing of what was going on in his head. “I believe the festival itself is being held outside the Manor gates, yes?”  
  
“Right. We’re supposed to pitch tents on the lands just beyond the garden fence. I was thinking of closing up shop a few days early and making a mini-holiday of it.”  
  
“That… would not be distasteful. Would we be sharing a tent?”  
  
Harry blushed and looked down at his nearly empty plate. “I wasn’t going to presume anything, but I kind of hoped we would. I… I like being with you, Severus, and I wouldn’t mind taking this… thing we have a bit further, if you know what I mean.”  
  
“Yes, I do. I would not mind taking things ‘a bit further’, as you put it, myself.”  
  
Harry grinned and brushed his fingertips along the back of Severus’ hand, laid flat on the countertop. Severus looked down at their hands for a minute, not saying anything. Then, he looked up at Harry and unexpectedly kissed him. His lips were hesitant at first, as if uncertain of their reception, but Harry quickly put paid to any doubts Severus might have and deepened the kiss, wrapping his fingers around the back of Severus’ neck to pull him closer. They had kissed before, but nothing as deep and earnest as this kiss, and Harry didn’t want it to end. Too quickly, Severus nipped his bottom lip before slowly disengaging. They spent a moment just looking at each other before the ding of the bell rang out, announcing a customer and forcing them to separate and return to their meals.  
  


-

  
  
Dealing with goblins always made Draco nervous, but being in the office of Bill Weasley was making him even more nervous. He tried not to fidget in his seat as he waited for Weasley to finish examining the book. He had no choice but to come here. The books Potter had suggested had had no effect on the plants, and the mist had thickened and was beginning to affect Draco himself. He needed to get to the bottom of the problem and fast. Weasley set the book down calmly and gave Draco a level stare. “This book reeks of Dark Magic, Mr. Malfoy. I don’t know how you don’t smell it yourself.”  
  
“I don’t see how it possibly could. My mother gathered those spells herself. None of them are meant to cause harm or damage in any way. How could they contain Dark Magic if they are meant only to increase the health and beauty of nature?”  
  
Weasley looked back at the book and performed a few spells on it. “Have you had the book checked for tampering?”  
  
“What? No. It’s my mother’s personal grimoire. Why would anyone tamper with it? I find it highly unlikely that anyone outside the family would even be aware that it exists.”  
  
“Nonetheless, this book has been tampered with. Do you have anything of your mother’s on you that might contain traces of her magic? I’d like to compare a sample to the magic used on the book.”  
  
Draco twisted the thumb ring on his right hand and contemplated handing it over. His mother had created it for him when he was a toddler and smothered it in protection spells. It had grown with him, and he had never taken it off before. He’d never had a reason to take it off before now. But this was important and the steady look Bill Weasley gave him firmed his resolve. He slid the ring from his thumb and pushed it across the desk silently. His thumb felt naked and vulnerable without it, and he rubbed the bare skin absently.   
  
Weasley picked the ring up and examined it closely. “A mother’s protection ring, is it? Nice craftsmanship, but your mum’s always been an excellent spell crafter.” His voice was distant, as though he were speaking mostly to himself. Draco tried not to think of scenarios where William Weasley would have come across his mother’s spell crafting in the past. Bill closed his eyes and held the ring in his left fist and the book in his right. They both sat very still while he compared the two. Draco held his breath, worried that he would find foreign magic on the book. What would he tell Mother if the book had been tampered with? What would that mean for the Manor’s protection wards? He knew there were people after them. Many thought Lucius had got off too easy with only ten years in prison, and Narcissa and Draco being exonerated. Could one of their enemies have got into the house without tripping the wards or alerting the house-elves? He rubbed the bare skin of his thumb a bit harder, trying to distract himself from the worry.   
  
Finally, Bill set the ring and the book down and leaned back in his chair to study Draco once more. “I have good and bad news. Which would you prefer?”  
  
Draco squeezed his thumb in a white-knuckled fist. “Bad.”  
  
“There is no trace of your mother’s magic on this book. I don’t think she’s ever even held it in her hands.”  
  
A lump of panic settled in Draco’s throat, and he swallowed hard to dislodge it. “How is that possible? I have personally witnessed her writing in this book on numerous occasions. How could there be no trace of her?”  
  
“My best guess is that this isn’t your mother’s book, but a copy. You said it took you several days to find the book in the first place, right?” Draco nodded an affirmation. “Someone probably took it and made an exact copy. I can detect several forgery spells in place. Whoever did this probably kept all of the descriptions that your mother wrote in, but changed the spells themselves to Dark Magic, intending for you or your mother to use the spells on the garden.”  
  
“What would be the purpose of doing that? If they could get into the Manor to access the book, why not just kill us in our sleep? Why alter a book that we may or may not use?”  
  
Weasley shrugged. “There could be a number of reasons. Perhaps this person intended for you to be accused of using the Dark Arts and sent to Azkaban. Perhaps he wanted to injure or kill you without the chance of being implicated.”  
  
Draco sat back in the stiff, uncomfortable chair, his thoughts racing. How could this have happened? The wards were iron-clad. It should have been nearly impossible for an outsider to breach them without some sort of alarm going off. What was he going to tell Mother? “Can you reverse the spell?”   
  
“I can try. I’ll have to visit your home and examine the behaviors of the plants. You said there’s a mist coming from them that’s caused your creatures to go into a sexual frenzy?”  
  
“Yes. My peacocks have all nested and half my house-elves are pregnant. It’s beginning to affect me, as well. I’ve been having strange, very sexual dreams that are not normally in my nature.”  
  
Weasley furrowed his brow. “Perhaps you should stay elsewhere until we can defuse the spell if it is affecting you. We don’t know whether the mist is toxic. I wouldn’t want you to be hurt.”  
  
“I would be more than happy to find other accommodations, but I am hosting a Beltane celebration in less than three weeks, and must be available at my home for the preparations.”  
  
Weasley bit his lip and studied Draco critically. “Yes, I received your invitation to the event. I’m just not certain it’s the best idea for you to stay at the house until we have the mist under control. I also think it might be a good idea to cancel or relocate the event, for safety reasons.”  
  
Draco wanted to scream, but managed to keep a straight face. “That isn’t possible. We need to figure out what has happened and neutralize the spell before May Day, full stop. Are you available to come to the Manor today?”  
  
The look on Weasley’s face told Draco that he did not approve of this plan. “I am.”  
  
“What time are you available?”  
  
“Now would be fine. You were my last client of the day.”  
  
“Good.” Draco stood and impatiently waited for Weasley to gather his things. They were at the Manor a few minutes later.  
  
“Merlin! What have you done to your garden, Malfoy? This is a mess!” Weasley exclaimed, covering his mouth with a kerchief to ward off the mist. It was thick now, the color of flamingo feathers and nearly opaque.   
  
“I believe that it is your job to answer that question,” Draco growled, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Weasley ignored him, already performing diagnostic spells. Draco watched him work, trying to recognize the spells he was using, but only managing a few. He gave up after a few minutes and propped himself on a lounger to wait.   
  


-

  
  
“What’s this box for, Harry?” Jamie asked, toeing a box of Defense books a man had dropped off a few weeks before. Harry had looked through half of the box before getting distracted by the pull of coffee and a nice hangover potion, and he hadn’t touched the box since. Now Jamie stood over it and lifted a few of the volumes out to peruse them.  
  
Harry glanced at the box from across the shop and shrugged. “Just some books a customer sold me. I started to go through it, but I must have got distracted.”  
  
“Want me to finish cataloguing them?”  
  
“Please.” Harry flashed him a smile and turned back to organizing the shelves he’d been working on. He half-listened as Jamie lifted the box onto the counter and started pulling books from it, flipping through each one and making a record on the inventory ledger of titles, authors, publishers, publication dates, and current condition. Once recorded in the ledger, the book would remain magically inventoried until it was either purchased or stolen. In the latter case, the record would turn red and start to emit alarm bells. Harry found the spell to be very useful against sticky-fingered customers.   
  
“This one’s interesting,” Jamie said half an hour later, a pink, leather-bound book in his hand. Harry went over to take a look, noting the hand-embroidery on the cover. “It’s a grimoire. Looks like all the spells have to do with the garden. Not really Defense-related, but interesting all the same.” Jamie handed him the book and leant over the counter to read over his shoulder as he began to thumb through the book. Harry turned the book in his hands, trying to remember where he’d seen it before. He opened to the first page and remembered. Narcissa Malfoy’s grimoire. This was the book that Malfoy had showed him the week before. But that was impossible. This book had been in the bottom of a box for at least three weeks. “Is there something wrong?” Jamie asked, studying his face.   
  
“I’ve seen this book before. Malfoy brought it in last week.” Harry lifted the book to his nose and his nostrils were filled with the scent of roses. “His stunk of Dark Magic, though. This one smells nice. I wonder…” He tapped his fingers across the cover, thinking. He should contact Malfoy. “Would you mind the shop solo for a bit? I want to take this over to Malfoy’s and see what he thinks.”  
  
“Go ahead. We probably won’t be getting many people in with this weather.” He indicated the heavy downpour outside with a forlorn expression. Harry sympathized.   
  
“Thanks. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He didn’t even bother leaving the shop before Apparating, straight to Malfoy Manor. The wards spit him out at the front gate, rather than the foyer he was aiming for, but thankfully the rain had already passed Wiltshire, and the sun was shining. A beleaguered house-elf greeted him at the gate and popped him to the Conservatory, where a haggard-looking Malfoy was hunched over his heaving plants. The mist had thickened considerably since Harry’s first visit. He found it difficult to breathe without inhaling some now.  
  
“Wow, you look like shite, Malfoy,” Harry said before his mental filter could stop him.  
  
He received a withering look for his efforts. “Thank you very much. If you have come just to taunt me, you may leave now.”  
  
“Sorry,” Harry said, blushing. He hadn’t meant to insult Malfoy. “I found something today that I thought might interest you. Someone sold this to me about three weeks ago, in a box full of Defense books.” He handed the book to Malfoy, whose eyes had grown to saucers and whose expression looked as though he had just been given the Holy Grail. “How…?” His face split into a grin, and he attacked Harry, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close. “You beautiful man! I could kiss you!” He exclaimed, pulling far enough away to look into Harry’s eyes, his own bright with joy.   
  
Harry found himself mesmerized by the sight, unable to look away. Even as exhausted Malfoy he was, he still looked gorgeous. Suddenly, Harry was very hot and his thoughts went slightly fuzzy. “You could,” he found himself saying, again without the aid of his mental filter.   
  
Malfoy considered him for a moment, the light in his eyes turning hot. He cupped Harry’s cheek in one hand and leaned in a bit. “I could.” And he did. And Harry let him, Severus be damned. Their lips were open against one another, breath mingling and tongues battling. It was wet and hot and it made Harry’s head swim in pleasure. Malfoy’s knee came up to rub against Harry’s groin, and Harry groaned and tried to shuffle Malfoy back to leaning against some hard surface. But there was no hard surface and so they ended up tumbling into the undergrowth at their feet, the sound of the book falling to the marble floor the only noise besides their kissing.   
  
Draco’s leg wrapped around Harry’s hip, and Harry’s fingers moved beneath his silk shirt, smoothing along his protruding spine. There were other sensations, a tickling of something thin and scratching slithering across their skin, but neither paid the other sensations any mind. Tongues were sliding, exploring, tasting one another. Draco’s fingers dug into Harry’s hair, pulling it by the root. Their hips began to rut together, causing a delicious friction that neither wanted to stop.   
  
The other sensations grew stranger, more constricting. It felt as though they were being wrapped in a cocoon. But they were being wrapped up together and so it did not matter what happened around them.   
  
Someone was shouting their names, but the noise was distant and unimportant. What mattered was that they remained attached at the lips, and that they continued moving closer and closer to ecstasy.   
  


-

  
  
The first thing Severus saw when he walked into the shop was Jamie surrounded by a pile of old, dusty books, a ledger open at his side with a Quick Quotes Quill taking notes. There was no sign of Harry, who very rarely left the front of the shop if it wasn’t necessary. “Mr. Arrowsmith, would you mind telling me where your employer is?”  
  
Jamie scowled at him, as had become his custom. It was decidedly strange, the coldness. The boy had been his student at Hogwarts for three years before Severus had resigned to pursue other interests, and they had got on well enough while Jamie was at school. But ever since Severus had begun his involvement with Harry, the boy had been decidedly frosty towards him. “He isn’t here. He went over to Malfoy Manor. We found a book that he thought Mr. Malfoy might like.”  
  
Alarm bells went off in Severus’ head. Harry should not be at that house, not if what he said about Draco’s garden was true. He scowled and stalked to the door, throwing a half-hearted thank you back to the bitter child. He Apparated directly into the foyer of Malfoy Manor and hurried through the maze of hallways to the Conservatory. He was thankfully too distracted with worry to dwell on the hated memories being back in that particular building brought back to him. What he found there filled him with a dread he had not felt since Voldemort’s demise.  
  
On the floor lay Harry and Draco, entwined together and attached at the lips. Or at least, Severus assumed that was the case, as both their bodies were almost completely consumed in vines and the mist surrounding them was as difficult to see through as jelly. “Harry! Draco! Get out of there, you imbeciles!” He cast a bubble charm around his head to ward off the mist and began throwing stunning and severing spells at the plants, fighting to rid the two rutting men of the constricting flora before they were both suffocated.   
  
It took several minutes of quick spell work before he dislodged the two enough to reach them. He shook them both by their arms, but they ignored him, consumed in a frenzied lust. He had to remove them from the mist, or they would go mad. He cast levitation charms on them both and whisked them from the room and to the front of the house, where he unceremoniously dropped them onto the hard tile of the foyer. They sat sputtering and coughing and moaning over bruised skin.   
  
“What happened?” Harry asked, massaging his throat as he looked up at Severus.   
  
“My best estimate is that you were overtaken by the mist and sent into a frenzy of lust. Had I not come to your rescue, both of you would have been dead within a few minutes. And good riddance! The world does not need such irresponsible idiots populating it! What were you thinking? You could have been killed!” He could barely contain his rage. Harry hung his head, while Draco turned pink.   
  
“It’s my fault. I was so happy to see Mother’s book that I hugged Potter. It got out of hand from there,” Draco explained. “Thank you for coming to our rescue.”  
  
Harry hefted himself onto his feet and reached a hand out to help Draco up. “How’d you know to come here?” he asked, looking to Severus.   
  
“Your assistant told me. What were you thinking coming here after what you told me about the plants?”  
  
“I found Narcissa’s grimoire. It was at the bottom of a box of books sold to me a few weeks ago. Jamie found it this afternoon.”  
  
“Speaking of, where is Mother’s book? We had it in the Conservatory…” Draco’s expression turned panicked.   
  
Severus rolled his eyes and summoned the book from the other side of the house. It came speeding through the hall and smacked into his hand. Draco snatched it away immediately and began to search through it. During his distraction, Harry sidled to Severus’ side and brushed a kiss against his lips. “Thanks for rescuing us. Sorry about the whole snogging another man thing.”  
  
Severus appraised his apologetic expression for a minute before returning the kiss. “Don’t do it again.”   
  
They both looked up to find Draco staring at them over the book, eyes wide and a little disappointed. He blushed again at being caught. “I hadn’t known you were involved. I apologize for watching.” His eyes fell back to his book.  
  
“As you have now been intimate with us both, you may look your fill if you like.” Severus ignored the sharp look Harry gave him.  
  
“What do you mean, he’s been intimate with us both?”  
  
“Do you not classify heated snogging sessions that nearly get you suffocated as being intimate with someone?” Severus knew he was being purposely obtuse, but was not ready to admit to Harry that he and Draco had been in a relationship previously.  
  
Draco, always quick to see through Severus’ duplicity, immediately saw what he was attempting to hide and explained to Harry without hesitation. “What Severus means is that he and I were involved intimately during the end of the war and shortly afterwards.”   
  
“You were? Why didn’t you say anything?” Harry turned to Severus, who clenched his teeth and counted to five in his head.   
  
“I did not think the information important.”  
  
“Oh.” Green eyes traveled from one to the other of them and back again in a calculated manner, but he said nothing more. Draco turned back to the grimoire, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.   
  
“Do you think it would do anything if I tried the actual spell Mother wrote down?”   
  
“What do you mean?” Harry asked.  
  
“This is Mother’s real grimoire. The one I showed you before—the one you said smelled of Dark Magic—was a copy. I took it to William Weasley in hopes that he could find a solution to my problem, and he discovered the forgery charms on it. He believes that someone stole the book and switched it with a copy that was exact in everything except that the spells themselves had been altered to Dark Magic.”  
  
“Why would someone do that?”  
  
Draco gave Harry an incredulous look. “There are any number of reasons. To kill me, to frame me for Dark Magic and have me sent to Azkaban, to make me go mad. Take your pick, really. At this point, I don’t particularly care. I just want the garden tamed so that I can get back to preparing for Beltane. I’ll think about the culprit after the celebration is over.”  
  
Harry nodded. “Well, why don’t we try your mum’s spell? It can’t make the situation  _worse_ , can it?”  
  
“No, I suppose not.” As if having made a decision to go as one, they both moved towards the hall that led to the Conservatory. Severus stopped them in their places.   
  
“Where do you think you are going? Need I remind you what happened the last time you both went into that area unprotected?” Severus crossed his arms over his chest and stared them down. He had spent far too much time keeping the two of them alive to lose them to stupidity now. He sent bubble head charms over both their heads and refreshed his own.   
  
“Thank you, Severus. I had forgotten about the mist,” Draco said, smiling at him.   
  
“I do not doubt that. Carry on.” He waved them both towards the hall and all three of them went to the Conservatory. The plants were in a frenzy, pouring into the room and covering every available surface in foliage. Before they had been slow-moving, but they were quick as whips now, as though losing their victims to Severus’ rescue had thrown them into a fit of anger. Draco gasped and began incanting the spell. Harry was busy throwing banishing charms at the vines, which was doing nothing to halt their spread. Draco finished the spell with a flourish, and the plants suddenly stopped. Vines that had been crawling the walls now drooped to the floor, those on the ground froze in place, and the pods that had been releasing the mist closed up and wilted off the plants. The three of them stood in stunned silence, looking over all the frozen foliage before them. The mist began to dissipate with the air flow out of the room, and everything was still once more.   
  
“Potter, I might kiss you again.” Draco’s voice was flat with shock, but then he was grinning and flinging himself into Harry’s arms, and peppering his face with kisses. Harry looked stunned and could only do his best to hold on. “Merlin, if you and Severus weren’t together, I’d take you to bed right now. Thank you so much for bringing the book to me.”   
  
Harry’s eyes darted to Severus with another of the calculating looks that made Severus uncomfortable. A plotting Harry was never a good thing. “I’m glad it helped you, Draco. Could you let go of me now? It’s getting hard for me to breathe.”  
  
Draco immediately let go, but did not stop smiling at him. “Sorry for nearly suffocating you.” He snapped his fingers and his house-elf, Lore, appeared. “The plants appear to have been neutralized. Clean this room up and dispose of the debris.” The house-elf nodded and set to work without another word. “Will you stay for dinner? I must thank you for your help.” He looked from Harry to Severus, who did not like the idea of dinner, especially one served in the formal dining room, one bit.  
  
“I do not think that will be necessary. We have alternate plans tonight. We will however be attending your Beltane festivities, now that they are safe to be put on.” Severus took Harry’s hand, unwilling to listen to his arguments on the subject. Harry was still too deep in thought to argue anyway. They exchanged farewells and Severus walked Harry out.  
  
He wasted no time in Apparating Harry to his bedroom, pushing him onto the bed, and covering his prone body with his own. “Severus, what are—” He stifled Harry’s question with a hungry kiss and pinned his wrists to the bed. It had taken nearly losing Harry to realize just how much the man meant to Severus, and all Severus wanted to do now was to show him.   
  


-

  
  
Harry curled into his side, heart still pounding from the intensity of their orgasms. Severus smoothed the fringe from his forehead and closed his eyes, intent to fall asleep, but Harry had other ideas.  
  
“Why did your relationship with Draco end?” he asked, voice hoarse from deep-throating for so long.  
  
Severus paused in the combing of Harry’s hair and stared up at the ceiling. “There were many reasons.”  
  
“Name one.”  
  
“Our difference in age. When we were together, he was barely out of boyhood. He was in love with me, and I did not wish him to stay tied to me when there were other, better opportunities available to him.”  
  
“He’s two months older than me and you don’t seem worried about our relationship.”  
  
“Yes, but you’re older than he was then. The age difference isn’t so obvious now. You’ve had time to explore other options, and chose this. Draco had not had that opportunity yet.”  
  
Harry curled closer to him and began stroking the sparse hair on his chest. “What other reasons did you have?”  
  
“The war. We both needed time to process what happened and learn to adjust to life without a Dark Lord looming over our heads.”  
  
“Do you think you’ve managed that now?”  
  
“In a manner of speaking. It is difficult to say whether anyone can fully adjust to life after such terror, but I think I have managed the best that I am capable of.”  
  
“Do you think Draco has?”  
  
“Yes.”   
  
“Was there more?”  
  
Severus narrowed his eyes and lifted Harry’s chin so that he could read his facial expression. “Why are you interrogating my reasons for ending my relationship with Draco?”  
  
Harry’s cheeks turned a light pink. “I’m just curious. Well… jealous, really. I know he’s still interested, and all of the reasons you’ve said so far no longer apply, so what’s to stop you from leaving me and going to him?”  
  
Severus growled and tugged at Harry’s hair, pulling him up for a rough kiss. “Have I not just made my feelings for you very clear? I do not think I am capable of further demonstrations for at least another half an hour, but if need be I will use supplemental assistance.”  
  
Harry squirmed in his arms, his cock twitching against Severus’ thigh though he wasn’t quite again hard yet. “I don’t think I’d object to a demonstration.”  
  
“Mmm, I’m certain you wouldn’t. Give me five minutes.” He kissed Harry’s forehead and settled back down. Harry settled back against him and resumed stroking the hair of his chest. “I would not wish to lie to you, though, not in these matters. If I were not already so involved with you, I might consider rekindling a relationship with Draco. He has offered recently.”  
  
“Has he?”  
  
“Yes, just before we began our liaison. I am quite satisfied with where I am at the moment, though. You have nothing to worry about.”   
  
Harry lifted up on his hands and administered a lush, languid kiss, one knee insinuating itself between Severus’ thighs. “I wasn’t worried,” he murmured, just before diving in for another kiss.  
  


-

  
  
The clean-up took the house-elves an afternoon to complete. By the next morning, there was no sign of the curse ever having taken hold, and the blooms looked gorgeous. And the best part was that there would be more than enough for the celebration. Draco was beyond pleased at the turn of events. With the danger behind him, he was able to focus on the preparations again.   
  
People began arriving the Tuesday before the festival was set to begin, mostly retired witches and wizards eager to spend a week drinking themselves silly. Draco didn’t mind their antics, too engrossed in final preparations to care. He assigned house-elves to their care and left them to their own devices. The minstrels arrived on Wednesday, and merry music could be heard drifting in from the field at all hours of the day and night. By Thursday, all plans had been finalized, and Draco was able to relax. He had planned to join the revelers on Friday evening for the May Birching, but with preparations finished a day early, he decided to set up camp and enjoy the extra relaxation time.   
  
As he was still on his own property, he hadn’t felt the need for an elaborate set-up, and so had chosen a simple tent that utilized the grass as flooring and only contained a platform bed. Beltane was a time for returning to one’s natural roots, and Draco liked the idea of being able to reach over the side of the bed and run his fingers through the grass.   
  
He emerged from his tent mid-afternoon to glimpse Harry and Severus arguing over tent placement a few feet away. Harry’s hair was more wild than usual and his tight t-shirt showed his muscles to their best advantage. Severus stood very close, shirt sleeves rolled to the elbow again and looking rather dangerous as he glared Harry down. Draco suppressed the flare of desire that momentarily overtook him and walked over to greet them.  
  
“Severus, Harry, I’m so glad to see that you’ve come.” He smiled and put a hand on each other their shoulders. The feel of their taught muscles under his fingers was an enticing sensation.  
  
“Hey, Draco,” Harry said, eyes darting from the daggers he was being pinned with and returning Draco’s smile. “Thank you for having us. I’m really looking forward to joining the festivities.”  
  
“I’m glad to hear it. There are all sorts of ways to participate. I will be leading a group of May Birchers tomorrow night, and we have the May Pole and fire pit to construct on Saturday morning. You’re both welcome to join in any way you like.”   
  
“What are May Birchers?” The sparkling green Harry’s eyes turned to in his interest caused Draco to lean closer to him, a fact he knew Severus had noticed as his shoulder went rather stiffer than it already had been underneath Draco’s hand.   
  
“A May Bircher is someone who goes about to the houses—or in the case of this festival the tents—of a community, and leaves a sprig of flowers or branch from certain trees. Whatever is left at each individual’s dwelling is meant to represent what the May Bircher or community feels towards that individual.”   
  
“How does what’s left represent someone’s feelings?”  
  
Draco’s smiled widened, and he found himself moving closer to Harry, drawn to his interest. “By using floriography, the study of the symbolism of flora. For example, if you were to find a branch of hawthorn at your doorstep, it means that you are well-liked. A clump of briars would mean you are considered untrustworthy. Anything from a nut-bearing tree like a walnut tree would mean that you are considered promiscuous. There are many many variations. I have a book on the subject in the library, if you would like to see it.”  
  
Harry smirked and glanced at Severus. “Maybe later. I don’t really want to do research this weekend. You’ll tell me what ours means, won’t you?”  
  
Draco batted his eyes flirtatiously. “Now, why would I do that when I am the one putting the offering at your doorstep?”  
  
“Severus will tell me, then.”  
  
“There will be no doorstep upon which to place an offering if we do not construct our tent soon,” Severus snapped in return. Harry frowned but then shrugged his gruff speech off.  
  
“You’re right, of course.” Harry flicked his wand at the various tent parts laid out on the ground at their feet and watched as they began to put themselves together.   
  
“I should see how everyone else is getting on. I’ll see you two at dinner tonight, won’t I?” Draco asked, looking to Severus who had yet to say anything to him. Severus gave him an appraising look, eyes burning with jealousy.  
  
“You shall.”  
  
“I’m glad. I’ll see you then.” He turned from them with one more smoldering look over his shoulder and walked over to greet the Parkinsons. He knew he was playing with fire flirting with them so blatantly, but somehow he didn’t mind the risk of getting burned.  
  


-

  
  
“Are you angry with Draco?”  
  
“What?” Severus asked, brows furrowing. He couldn’t see what his feelings towards Draco could possibly have to do with their current situation, naked and entangled with each other.  
  
“Are you angry with Draco? You seemed really tense this afternoon when we spoke to him. I thought you said you liked him.”  
  
“He was flirting with you. Would you rather I show nonchalance when an attractive man who has recently expressed a sexual interest in you tried to curry your favor?”  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and rubbed bare toes across the back of Severus’ thigh. “He would have been flirting with you as well, if you hadn’t been so surly.”  
  
Severus tried not to show how surprised he was at this, but suspected that he failed. It was always harder to mask his emotions when he was buried deep inside a lover. “Did you  _want_  him flirting with me?”  
  
“Yeah, I think the two of your together would be really sexy.”  
  
Severus paused, unsure of how to respond. It was not normal for his lovers to express an interest in his intimacy with others. Was Harry suggesting that he wanted Severus to have an affair with his former lover? He pushed himself onto his hands, his erection waning and slipping from Harry’s entrance. “What exactly are you suggesting?”  
  
“Nothing, exactly... I was just thinking… maybe the three of us could… I don’t know, maybe give it a go?” His face was crimson red in embarrassment, but his cock was still hard against Severus’ stomach.   
  
“As in a ménage à trois?”  
  
“Yeah, sort of. Only… er… maybe not so much a one-off.”  
  
Severus was floored and sat upright, pulling completely away from Harry to stare at him incredulously. “You cannot be serious.”  
  
Harry scrambled to sit up himself and grabbed onto Severus’ bicep. “Calm down, Severus. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve been thinking about it since you saved us from the garden. I know you care about him, and so do I. And I know that he cares for the both of us, as well. Why couldn’t we give it a go? I’m sure he’d be willing. He’s propositioned us both in the last month, and you saw the look on his face when he saw us kiss.”  
  
“What makes you think that I would be interested in sharing you?”  
  
“It wouldn’t just be about sharing me, though, would it? He’s not just interested in me.”  
  
Severus said nothing, too dumbfounded by the suggestion. He could not fathom what could possibly have possessed Harry to suggest such an idea. He had thought that Harry was interested in a long-term, steady relationship, but perhaps he had been wrong. The doubt that realization left in him caused his heart to clench painfully in his chest. “This conversation is over, as is our night. Perhaps you will return to your senses by the morning.” He moved around Harry and lay down with his back to his lover, determined not to say another word about it.  
  
He heard Harry’s sigh and tried to ignore the hand that pressed to his back. “I’m sorry I upset you, Severus. I had hoped you would like the idea.”  
  
“You thought wrong. Good night.” With that, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. Harry murmured a sullen good night of his own, and Severus felt the bed move as Harry settled into sleep himself. Even though Harry remained on his side of the bed, the hot hand pressed to his spine never moved from its place.   
  
Severus woke again before light and slipped from bed, making sure not to wake Harry. He had thinking to do, and he wanted to do it without Harry hovering over him and asking infernal questions about his well-being. And besides, the dew on May Day morning was very useful in healing potions, and it would not do to let the opportunity of collecting it pass him by so that he could spend a few more hours in bed. He dressed quickly and silently and crept from the tent, glancing back one last time to assure himself that Harry was still dead to the world.   
  
Stepping out into the lovely pre-dawn morning, he took a deep breath of the moist air and felt himself relax. Today was a day of celebration, of re-birth and renewal. He would not make it a day of argument, jealousy, and anger. To that end, he turned to the doorway to see what Draco had left them. Arranged in a wreath above their tent flap was a grouping of flowers that set his heart pounding. There was yellow acacia, forget-me-nots, honeysuckle, and bluebells, all woven together with switches of Rowan. This could not be. Draco could not be implying what these flowers meant.   
  
Severus sighed and closed his eyes to think. This confusion with Draco was too much. What were Harry and Draco both playing at, suggesting that the three of them partake in a sort of ménage à trois? It could only end in disaster. Harry was sure to leave him for Draco in the end. And that did not sit well with Severus. He felt a definite rightness with Harry that he had never felt before. He felt warmth permeate his bones every time Harry looked at him, a feeling that was neither natural nor sensible to him, but something he could not help but feel anyway. He did not wish to lose that sensation. Would Draco get in the way of it?   
  
And what of Severus’ feelings for Draco, that had once been so deep? He had only left Draco out of a desire to allow him to choose his own destiny, a gift Severus himself had never been given. In the rare times when he was truly honest with himself, he had been just as deeply in love with Draco as he had known Draco was with him. And now to have all of those long-dormant feelings stirred back up just as he had once more found happiness. It was all too much.  
  
He frowned and shook his head. His thoughts were so scattered that he would never find an answer. He stood and decided to gather some dew. Maybe the exercise would help him to clear his mind and come to a more fruitful solution. He took one of the two wreaths of flowers laid out at the doorstep and placed it on his head before heading off in the direction of the tree line.  
  


-

  
  
Harry awoke on the morning of Beltane to the sounds for trumpets and guitars playing a joyful tune a little ways away. He looked to the other side of the bed to find it empty and cold, as though Severus had been gone for some time. He sat up and looked around the small bedroom, only to find no sign of his lover. He sighed to himself, disappointed in himself for having caused Severus upset and also disappointed that his plan had been so thoroughly shot-down.   
  
He got up from bed, determined to enjoy the day despite the disappointment of the night before, pulled on the clothing he’d set aside for the day, and stepped out into the beautiful sunshine of dawn. A wreath of willows strung through with fresh blooms and bright ribbons rested on their doorstep and Harry looked curiously at it. Was this what Draco had meant about the May Birchers? Harry took a moment to look over the wreath curiously before turning his attention to his fellow revelers. He spotted Draco looking radiant in the middle of a group of brightly robed young people, busy constructing the May Pole. A slight pang of regret hit him in the stomach upon laying eyes on the beautiful man, dressed in elegant green robes and flush with excitement. Harry turned his eyes away to look at the others. All of his companions wore wreaths similar to the one left at his doorstep, and so Harry took the hint and put his own on.   
  
Looking further around, he found several people surrounding a large fire pit, and walked over to help. He found Severus amongst them, a wreath that matched Harry’s atop his head. He looked almost silly wearing a wreath of flowers, and the sight of him brought back a bit of Harry’s waning excitement. “Good morning,” he said, sidling up beside his lover and taking his hand. “What can I help with?”  
  
“Good morning,” Severus returned, turning away from the group to greet him. “You may come with me to gather fire wood, if you like.”   
  
“I’d love to.” He followed as Severus led him towards the tree line to the right of the clearing. Once they had cleared the first trees, Severus turned to him, looking rather serious. Harry’s stomach dropped to his feet.  
  
“I need to apologize for my reaction to your suggestion last night. I overreacted. Your suggestion was not completely outrageous, and I know that you had both of our best interests at heart.”  
  
“I did. I just want you to be happy, Severus.”  
  
“I am more than happy with you alone.”  
  
“I know that. And I’m happy just being with you, too. I just…” Harry frowned, trying to think of way to express the feeling inside him when he looked at Draco and thought of the blond joining their relationship. “I can’t really explain it. I just having this feeling that he… belongs with us. I know it isn’t rational or normal; it’s just a feeling I have. I won’t bring it up again if you don’t want me to.”  
  
Severus didn’t say anything for a moment, searching Harry’s face for something Harry couldn’t name. He must have found what he was looking for, though, because he kissed Harry lightly on the lips. “Let me think on it.”   
  
“Okay.” They turned as one in search of firewood.   
  
Nothing more was said on the subject that morning. Once they had gathered their armfuls of firewood, they returned to the meadow and deposited their findings in the pit. Once everything was prepared for the fire that was to burn at sunset, all the revelers gathered around the May Pole, and the dancing began. Harry rather enjoyed the weaving in and out of women and men and the lovely pattern their bright ribbons made wrapped around the pole. He swayed with the music and even managed to get Severus to dance along with him. It was a lovely morning, filled with laughter and singing, and it helped him to forget his disappointment of the night before.   
  
In the afternoon, there was a feast fit to put a Hogwarts feast to shame. A long table was set up near the pole and everyone was gathered to eat. Severus and Harry were invited to sit at the head of the table near Draco, and Severus’ objections to this were much weaker than Harry would have expected them to be. “I’ve already told you how glad I am that you both came, haven’t I?” Draco asked, voice full of warmth and sincerity.   
  
“You mentioned it yesterday, yeah. We’re really glad to be here. I’ve never been to one of these before, but it’s a lot of fun so far. The May Pole dance was brilliant!” Harry’s grin threatened to split his face. Draco returned the grin with one of his own, cheeks flushing.  
  
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. How are you finding things, Severus? I saw you collecting dew this morning. Planning on brewing some healing potions later?”  
  
“I had planned to, yes, later on this week. It wouldn’t do to let such a potent ingredient go unused.”  
  
“No, it wouldn’t.” Draco’s eyes turned soft as he looked at Severus, and Harry’s heartbeat quickened. He wasn’t wrong about Draco’s feelings for Severus. And as he turned his eyes to Severus, he thought he could see a hint of returned warmth. Perhaps his cause was not as lost as he had originally thought. “Did you enjoy the flowers I strung across your door this morning? I put a lot of thought into choosing the blossoms.” The flush left his cheeks and his eyes turned calculating, studying Severus for a reaction. Harry looked towards their tent, confused, only to see a large wreath of flowers hanging above the opening. He hadn’t noticed the arrangement before, but felt certain that was what Draco had left during his May Birching. He wondered what they meant, and hoped that he would find out between the two of them.  
  
“I had noticed them, yes,” Severus answered noncommittally.  
  
“Did you enjoy them?”  
  
“I am not certain I understand their full meaning, or at least not as it pertains to the both of us.”  
  
“What meaning would that be? I didn’t even notice the flowers until you just said something, Draco.”  
  
“We shall have to go over them together after the feast has ended. I do so want you  _both_  to understand their meaning.” He gave Severus a significant look, his words infused with innuendo.   
  
Harry felt a hand slide across his thigh. He looked down into his lap to see a pale hand squeeze his leg, fingertips brushing his groin, before moving away again. His heart sped up. “I’d like that. Wouldn’t you, Severus?” Harry turned his attention to his lover, hopeful that Severus had thought about their earlier conversation and come to a more satisfactory conclusion.   
  
Severus’ eyes flickered between Harry and Draco, a world of thought hidden in their black depths. “I believe I would, yes.”   
  
Harry could not hold back the grin that threatened to split his face. “Wonderful!” He would have kissed Severus, except that they were on opposite sides of the table and it would have been difficult to reach over top of the plates stacked high with food. Instead, he stretched his foot out underneath the table and rubbed his bare toes up Severus’ trouser leg. There were benefits to walking around barefoot all day, and the visible shudder that went up his lover’s spine was one of them. Draco poured him another glass of wine and began to tell him the history of the Beltane celebrations, and he lost himself in conversation until the feast was over and it was time to light the fire and pass out the Beltane Cake.  
  
The feast was abandoned and everyone gathered around the fire pit. Severus’ arms wrapped around Harry’s stomach, pulling his back flush against Severus’ front. Harry, buzzing with too much wine and excitement over the night to come, settled into the nest of his lover’s arms and watched the proceedings. Draco and a few others stood over the pit, casting fertility spells. Draco cast a flame charm and others threw agarics in, branches made from what Draco had told him was birch trees. The pit exploded in a burst of magical fire twenty feet in the air amidst a massive cry from the crowd and a joyous explosion of music from the minstrels.   
  
Harry was transfixed by the sight, not only of the massive Beltane fire, but of Draco in that fire, his hair glowing gold in the intense light. He turned to Harry and Severus and smiled warmly before walking over and stealing Harry’s mouth in a kiss. Harry gasped into his mouth in surprise, and Draco pressed his advantage, invading Harry’s mouth with his tongue. Harry felt Draco’s hands travel over his waist and back to Severus, pulling the three of them into a tight embrace. The blond pulled away from the kiss, only to reach up and pull Severus into an equally intense kiss over Harry’s shoulder. Harry busied himself getting acquainted with Draco’s neck, licking and sucking at it until Draco was moaning into Severus’ mouth. Severus’ fingers splayed out across Harry’s stomach underneath his shirt, warm and insistent. They were soon joined by Draco’s, running along his spine. Harry was only partly conscious of the fact that they were out in the open amongst friends and strangers alike.   
  
Slowly, Draco began to disengage, pecking both Severus and Harry on the mouths before stepping a foot away. “We’ll continue this later. I have to distribute the Beltane Cake. Don’t move.” He gave them a steadying look before all but lopping away. Harry watched with wonder, beginning to suspect that there was more than just wine in the wine. He twisted his body to make eye contact with Severus and leaned up to kiss him, reveling in the affection he felt for the man.  
  
“You changed your mind?” he asked, smiling.  
  
“I have momentarily lost sight of my senses. I believe the veela-made wine is affecting my ability to think clearly.” The deep, sultry voice in his ear did wonderful things to Harry’s nether regions.   
  
“You think? That might explain why you allowed him to snog both of us in plain sight of all these people.”  
  
“Look at them all. Do they look to you as though they were paying attention?” Harry turned to the others, dancing and running and laughing in a drunken circle around the Beltane fire. Severus was right. No one was paying them any mind. Harry spied Hermione and Ron across the fire, kissing with the same intensity they’d done as teenagers. Many other couples were similarly engaged. An older couple had stripped off their robes and were dancing circles around each other, their sagging skin flapping in the breeze. Normally, such a sight would turn Harry’s stomach, but something about their laughter made Harry feel joyous. This was a time to let go of one’s inhibitions and be free. He laughed and turned in Severus’ arms, pulling his face down for a kiss.   
  
They were interrupted some time later by taps on their shoulders, and pulled away to find Draco smiling at them, directing a tray full of plates of bright, frosted cake. “Beltane Cake?” Harry and Severus both took slices, and Harry almost melted into the ground at the first taste. It was delicious! The moistness of the cake mixed with the creamy texture of the frosting created heaven in his mouth.  
  
“That’s brilliant!”   
  
“Is it? I’ve not had a chance to taste it yet.” Harry broke off a section of his cake and held it up to Draco’s mouth without a second thought, completely bypassing his fork. Draco’s eyes sparkled as he took the bite into his mouth, sucking on Harry’s fingers and sending shivers down his back. “Mmm, delicious.” His eyes flickered to the other guests for a moment before looking back to the two of them. “I have to finish passing out the cake. Meet me at my tent in half an hour?”  
  
“We will be there,” Severus agreed, a fire matching Draco’s in his eyes.   
  


-

  
  
Draco hadn’t anticipated it taking as long as it had to pass out cake, but the veela-made wine had left everyone irrational with lust, and he’d been groped by quite a few more people than he would have liked. He arrived at his own tent with a twinge of worry. There was no sign of either Harry or Severus. One peek inside the tent assuaged his worry and fueled his desire. Both were naked on the bed, Severus spread out on his back with Harry knelt in front of him, perfectly round arse on display, licking at his thick cock as though it were a lollipop. Draco groaned and slipped inside. “Starting without me, are we?”  
  
Harry turned his head to flash Draco a heated look without moving his mouth from Severus’ cock. Severus’ wand hand lifted and a quick spell later, Draco’s robes were folded neatly on the floor next to the others. “You haven’t missed much. Come here.” The commanding tone went straight to Draco’s cock, and he made quick work of the distance between him and the bed. Severus pulled him down by the nape of his neck and took his mouth in a savage kiss. He groaned and melted into Severus’ side. He felt a hand wrap around his erection and glanced down to see Harry turn his attention from one erection to the other. Draco threaded his fingers through Harry’s hair, guiding his mouth to where he wanted it. Harry obediently swallowed him down, sucking hard and moaning over it.   
  
“Fuck,” Draco muttered into Severus’ mouth. Severus pulled his head back by his hair and studied him seriously.  
  
“That is precisely what I plan to do to you. But first, you are going to fuck Harry.” Draco bit his bottom lip and dug his fingers into Harry’s scalp, more aroused than he’d ever been in his life. He loved it when Severus gave orders in bed, and having Harry suck him off at the same time was going to make him lose it too soon.   
  
“Will you fuck me while I fuck him?” he gasped out, arching against a particularly hard suck from Harry.  
  
“Perhaps. I think I’d like to watch you fuck him for a while first.”  
  
Draco groaned and pulled Harry’s head from his groin, wanting to get to fucking right away if it meant having Severus watch them. Harry protested, but only until Draco had him flat on his back and was sucking a nipple into his mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned, hips rocking into Draco’s stomach. Draco grinned up at him and licked his way south, making sure to spend time thrusting his tongue into Harry’s navel and laving at his hipbone before sucking the head of his cock into his mouth. Harry cried out, hips thrusting off the bed, but was distracted by Severus kissing him. He snaked a hand down to wrap around Severus’ erection and began to pump it to the rhythm of Draco’s sucking. Draco watched them kiss as he bobbed his head up and down over Harry’s shaft. Just as he felt the first shudders of what he guessed was to be Harry’s orgasm, he pulled away and summoned the lube.   
  
It took little to prepare him, and soon Draco was pushing in, Harry’s ankles resting on his shoulders, his hips lifting to meet Draco’s thrusts. The feeling of Harry was incredible, and he couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss Harry once more. Harry returned the kiss, lifting his hips to meet Draco’s urgent thrusts. Severus lay back against the pillows next to them, face a concentrated mask of lust, hand moving quickly over his erection. Draco was consumed in the heat of Harry, the intensity of their coupling, and the incredible feeling of having Severus’ hot gaze on them as they moved together. He took hold of one of Harry’s ankles and licked up the arch of his foot before sucking his big toe into his mouth. Harry looked up at him in wonder, eyes a big as dinner plates, before knocking his head back and shouting his lust. Draco took firm hold of his sack to stop him from coming and continued to lave at his toes.   
  
Without warning, Severus was up and shoving Draco over, knocking Harry’s foot from his mouth and forcing him onto his hands and knees. Draco took the opportunity to kiss Harry once more, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth before exploring with his tongue. Harry groaned into his kiss and wrapped strong arms around his neck, holding him close. “Stay still,” Severus ordered, running one hand across the firm globe of Draco’s arse cheek. Draco stilled, his only movement his lips trailing kisses along Harry’s jaw line. Severus’ found the lube and teased fingers over Draco’s opening, rubbing the lube across his hole before dipping a fingertip in. Draco couldn’t help himself, he thrust his hips back into that hand, and Harry moaned beneath him as he pulled out only to thrust back in. The movement earned him a smack of Severus’ hand across his bottom. He stilled again, waiting for Severus to finish preparing him.   
  
Within minutes, Severus was slowly entering him, careful not to dislodge him from inside Harry. Harry was clinging to Draco’s shoulders, fingers digging into his shoulder blades as he adjusted to the weight of two men atop him and the depth that Draco reached in him with Severus’ added thrusting. Draco was shaking with need, barely able to stand the combined pleasures of being buried inside Harry and having Severus once again buried inside of him. He had been dreaming of this opportunity for days, ever since he learned that Harry and Severus were together. He’d been fantasizing about them separately for much longer. But to be in their presence now, to be with them both simultaneously, it was too much. Draco called out, unable to stop himself from coming.   
  
Except that he didn’t because at that moment Severus performed a spell that cinched his balls and stopped his orgasm in its tracks. “You come only when I tell you that you may, understood?” Severus growled in his ear.   
  
Draco moaned and nodded weakly, trembling with the need to come. “Yes, Severus.” Severus squeezed his arse cheek in pleasure and began to thrust in earnest, causing Draco to thrust into Harry once more as well. They soon set up a fast, hard rhythm that had Harry thrashing on the pillow, hands grabbing at sheets and throwing pillows this way and that. His knees became a vice on Draco’s ribs, squeezing them so tight Draco found it difficult to breathe.   
  
The constant back and forth between Harry and Severus was beginning to be too much when Harry suddenly froze up and came, shaking so hard he dislodged Draco, come splattering between their sweaty chests and stomachs. Draco stared down at him, stunned. He had assumed that Severus had placed the same anti-orgasm charm on Harry, but clearly not. Harry shuddered underneath him for several more minutes before smiled up at him and kissed him. Once the kiss ended, Harry slipped out from underneath him and sat up on his knees to kiss Severus as well. Draco twisted his body to watch the hot exchange of tongues and marveled at the affection there. It was clear that Severus felt something very deep for Harry, and that Harry returned that emotion with something equally as serious.  
  
Draco was so distracted by watching their kiss that he wasn’t expecting Severus to pull out and flip him onto his back. Severus wasted no time in pushing Draco’s knees to his chest and re-entering him. Draco cried out, overtaken with pleasure. The feeling of having his muscle give against a warm, hard cock was always his favorite part of sex, and Severus knew it. Severus leant down and nibbled at his earlobe, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He was a begging, pleading mess of lust just waiting to explode. Harry’s hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it and making it so much harder to hold back.  
  
And then finally, finally, Severus’ voice whispered in his ear just as the clench eased from the base of his cock, “Come for me. Now.” Draco exploded, crying out he knew not what, covering his chest with come, mixing it with Harry’s already drying on his sweaty skin. Severus came a moment later, emptying into Draco until he collapsed atop him.   
  
They stayed that way, deflated and panting, for only a moment before Harry was peeling Severus away and wiping them both up with the edge of the sheet. Draco was too spent to protest the cleanliness of the act. Instead, he settled more comfortably on the bed and closed his eyes to catch his breath. He felt lips on his chin, licking a spare drop of come that had splattered there, and peered down to see Harry leaning over Severus’ chest to lick at him. They shared a brief kiss before Harry settled on the other side of Severus and none of them moved for several minutes.   
  
“We’re doing that again, yeah?” Harry asked, voice hopeful of an affirmative answer. Draco couldn’t imagine saying no, but had no idea what Severus would think of the situation.  
  
“I believe you wanted to ‘make a go of it,’” Severus answered in a flat tone that gave nothing of his own feelings away. Draco snaked his hand into Severus’ and squeezed.   
  
“I would very much like to continue this.”  
  
“Me, too. This feels right somehow, don’t you think? Like we were meant to come together this way.” Harry’s voice was full of smiling optimism that made Draco smile back. Not that he’d stopped from after his orgasm.  
  
“I don’t know about being meant to be together, but I do feel a… rightness about this.” Draco offered back.   
  
“Good, I’m glad.”  
  
“Yes, we’re all glad. Now will you two shut up so that I may sleep?” Severus growled, taking Draco’s pillow hostage and curling onto his side facing Harry. Harry laughed, and Draco heard the sound of a kiss.  
  
“Good night, Severus.” Severus grumbled a good night of his own and all was quiet.  
  


-

  
  
“So, are you going to tell me what that wreath meant or not?” Harry asked, leaning up on elbows to give Draco an impatient look over Severus’ shoulder. They’d been quiet for half an hour, but Harry wasn’t tired, and he wanted to know what Draco had meant about the flowers.   
  
“I didn’t know that you were so interested in floriography.”  
  
“I’m not. I want to know what you feel about us. You said you would tell me.”  
  
Draco’s lips curled into a sly smirk. “You are a persistent one, aren’t you? All right.” He stood and dug through the neat piles of clothing until he found his wand. A moment later, the wreath that had been attached to Harry’s tent floated into the room to hover over the bed. Harry rolled onto his back to get a better look at it. Severus’ shifted next to him and let out a long-suffering sigh.  
  
“If you two are going to natter on about flower meanings, go outside. Some of us are trying to rest.”  
  
“We’ll whisper. Sorry, Sev,” Harry whispered, rubbing his hand along Severus’ side.   
  
“Severus,” Severus grumbled. Draco laughed softly and nudged Severus over so that he could insinuate himself where Severus had been. Severus went grudgingly, showing them his back and pulling a pillow over his head to drown out their voices.   
  
Draco pulled Harry close and whispered into his ear, “Let’s start with the base. I used Rowan to represent strength and protection, both qualities I find very important in our relationship. I feel as protected by both you and Severus as I feel protective of you, and I hope you would feel the same for me.” Harry nodded, causing Draco’s nose to rub against his cheek. “Let’s start with the simplest flower, bluebells. The bluebells represent constancy, humility, and gratitude. I’m very grateful to you and Severus for saving my life, as I think you know.”  
  
“I’m grateful to you, as well. You’ve saved my life as many times as I’ve saved yours.”  
  
“I don’t know about that, but I understand what you mean. Next, there’s the yellow acacia.”  
  
“The what?”  
  
“ See the yellow flowers that look like little puff balls? Those are acacia. The flower can mean a lot of different things depending on the color, but I chose yellow because it represents hidden love. It’s not so hidden now, but I’ve been wanting you both for a while. Well, mostly Severus as I hadn’t seen you for so long, but still.” Harry turned to give Draco a look, and their noses bumped. Draco rolled his eyes and turned Harry’s face back toward the arrangement.   
  
“Moving on. The forget-me-nots represent true love, which is what I want from this relationship. From what you said earlier, I think you feel the same. The honeysuckle means faithfulness and devotion. I was hoping to show you that I was interested in the long-term and not just a one-off.”  
  
“You’re mad if you think I’m letting this be just a one-off.”  
  
“I know that now, but I was completely unsure of your reaction to my sentiments before. I’m glad it’s worked out, though.”  
  
Harry turned his head so that their noses brushed again and kissed him softly. “I am, as well.”   
  
“Enough with the loving sentiment. Go to sleep, the both of you,” Severus growled from beneath his pillow. They laughed quietly at him, but grudgingly did as he asked.  
  
  


Epilogue

  
  
Harry was barely awake, exhausted from being kept up half the night sandwiched between his two lovers. When Harry had decided to include Draco in their relationship, he hadn’t added in the factor of severe loss of sleep to the mix. Two lovers meant twice the amount of energy and twice the cock in his arse. Which was why he was sitting so gingerly on his chair and sipping a strong tea laced with pain potion.   
  
The bell over the door rang, and Harry turned to see a young man walk in, rather attractive, and carrying a heavy-looking box. The man was half-way to the counter when Harry froze, recognizing the stranger. In the weeks after Beltane, Draco had worked with the Aurors to find the culprit who sabotaged his mother’s book, with little luck. The magical signature wasn’t one that was registered with law enforcement, and as there were an untold number of witches and wizards with a grudge against the Malfoy family, the only solid lead they had was the hope that the man would come back to Harry’s book shop. None of them thought for a minute that they would ever see him again, as anyone intelligent enough to pull off such a scheme would be intelligent enough not to show his face again, and so had chocked the mystery up for a loss. Now, against all sense and logic, the man stood before Harry, looking as though he had done nothing wrong. Harry squeezed his tea cup so hard it was a wonder the ceramic didn’t shatter. “Good morning.”  
  
“Good Morning. I told you I’d have more books for you when I had more time. Aunt Audrey had a huge collection, after all. Are you still interested?” The man looked pleasant enough, but Harry knew underneath that pleasant exterior a killer lurked. A killer out for his lover.  
  
Harry smiled calmly back and set down his tea, pulling his wand from his pocket, but leaving it hidden behind the counter. “I’m interested, alright. Set it on the counter, here.”  
  
The man did, a wide smile blooming on his face. He really was quite attractive. “Thank you so much. I wouldn’t know what to do with all of these books on my own. Like I said before, I’m not much interested in Defense.”  
  
“I’m sure you’re not.” Harry feigned interest in the contents of the box: more old leather-bound books that were probably worth a pretty penny. He’d already sold two books from the last lot for twenty Galleons a piece. “Hey, there was a book in the last batch that interested me. A pink leather-bound grimoire with embroidery all over the cover. Do you know anything about it?”  
  
The man froze, staring at Harry in what appeared to be panic. “I…” He turned and bolted for the door, but Harry was quicker and a fast  _Petirificus_  had him flat on his face in seconds. Harry hurried over and cast  _Incarcerus_  on the man before turning him over.   
  
“I know what you tried to do to Draco, and I’m not happy. The Ministry will make you pay for this, mark my words.” He made sure the man was secure in his bonds before sending a Patronus to the Ministry, requesting an Auror escort. Within minutes, two Aurors were in his shop, standing over the man’s bound body and listening to Harry’s tale of the switched books and the havoc they had caused. The Aurors listened carefully and agreed to take the man in for questioning. They had just left with the man when Draco and Severus walked into the shop for their regular lunch date with Harry.  
  
“What’s wrong, love? You look upset.” Draco asked, cupping a hand to Harry’s cheek. Harry shook off his worry and smiled at Draco.  
  
“The Aurors were just here.”  
  
“Why were the Aurors here? Is there a problem?” Severus asked, hand going to Harry’s back in support.  
  
“No. Well, yes, but not with me. The evil git who switched Narcissa’s book walked in with another load of books this morning.”  
  
“What?!” Draco asked, shock overtaking his face. Harry calmly explained the whole story, but before he could finish Draco had pulled him into an embrace and was kissing him. Harry grinned and kissed back, ignoring the unsubtle cough of Severus, who had started unpacking their lunch.   
  
“If you are done snogging like teenagers in the middle of a retail establishment, you may come and eat.” The two finally pulled away at Severus’ dry tone and went over to take turns kissing him as well. He grudgingly obliged them, but Harry doubted it was much of a difficulty.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> *Grimoire-a book containing magical spells that have been personally compiled and hand-written by the owner of said book.
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you want writing updates from me, you can follow me on Twitter [@RonsPigwidgeon](https://twitter.com/RonsPigwidgeon), Tumblr at [MsCaptainWinchester](https://mscaptainwinchester.tumblr.com/), or Pillowfort at [MsCaptainWinchester](https://www.pillowfort.io/MsCaptainWinchester).


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